Summer Days Winter Nights
by LazeeKBirdee
Summary: A story about Jack Spicer's past life with his best friend, whom life had taken away.


Ok I seriously miss this show, but I always wondered about Jack Spicer, and how great it would be to give him a story to make him seems more real. To me, I can totally see Jack being all Goth and in depression mode… I hope I wrote this alright, because I've actually done this myself, so putting Jack in my position just without the death and ghost was pretty neat to do. The story Blythe tells Jack is actually a line from the movie, 'Fried green tomatoes' I changed it a little but it's basically the same. The italics are flashbacks; the normal writing is the present. I hope you like this and I would appreciate any and all reviews I get. Thanks so much!

It didn't seem real to him, there wasn't a day that past that he didn't think of it… of her… for at least a while. This day always was worse for him though, always one hundred percent harder to push the feelings of guilt, depression and anger away. That day of the year… January 14th. There was a blanket of white snow covering the ground, and the air around him even in his home seemed frigid cold today. He had been outside earlier on a walk, clearing his mind; he'd stopped by her stone and placed a single red rose in a deep scarlet vase on the ground in front of the icy granite. He sat behind her, his back to the frozen slab, and thought about them, about her and the past for a while. He thought about summer time, not far from here they used to lay in the humid sunny days on a hillside with such green grass you'd of thought they were in some kind of fantasy. Her eyes would look into his scarlet ones, such a different color, so Icy and glassy, unlike any other blue he'd ever seen, and her hair would flow over her shoulders in a river of messy loose curls the color of wild rabbits fur. They'd lay in a comfortable silence for hours, or talk about nothing for an eternity until the sun set and bathed that hillside in deep orange rays. Then the stars would come out and they'd go home, one night in particular he remembered she had made it her mission to get a piggyback ride home… "_If I ever die don't cry for me okay?" Her voice melted into the sticky night air around them. "No promises, but don't you cry for me either, no one else will I'm not important enough for that…" Jack looked her in the eyes then, his red irises locking onto frosty orbs. "That's not cool Jack, don't say that… You're important to me you know!" She blushed then not realizing. He turned his back on her and started walking away. "Hey, wait up!" she called, before he knew it a weight had placed itself on his back, he readjusted her to make carrying her easier and began the walk to her home, knowing full well she'd not get down unless he dropped her… He'd never be so cruel to her… _"I carried you all the way home…" His soft voice blended with the cold then, bringing his mind back to the present. Time had gone by, what was then noontime sunlight had now turned into a sunset. He stood up, using the granite stone as a temporary support as his stiff limbs regained life. He patted the stone with his gloved hand, and pecked the top of it with cold lips. His breath lingered in the air as a white cloud for a moment before dissolving. He turned around then whispering an, 'I love you' before continuing to walk out through the black wrought iron gates guarding this fiendish burial site. The black of his trench coat contrasted against the purity of the snow as he walked. He passed an ice cream shop they'd go to in the spring and summer, now closed for the winter season… _"What the hell are you doing?" He asked as she leaned a little closer to his pale face. "Nothing… it's just that something's on your nose…" She took a lick of her vanilla cone. "What's on my nose?" He wiped at it with his fingerless glove. "Nope, it's still there!" She let out a childish giggle. "Get it off then!" He said, looking cross-eyed trying to see what it was. She leaned a little bit closer before tapping her ice cream cone to his nose. The white cream barely noticeable against his complexion. She laughed out loud as he wiped off the cold substance from his nose. After it was gone, she still was laughing and he started to laugh a little as well, before they knew it the laughter had gone to the next level to hysteria, both of them feeding off the other's giggles and fits of laughter. _ He sat under that tree next to the ice cream shop at a picnic table. Just thinking about the times they were here. A little time went by, not more than ten minutes before he got up again. When he started to pass the park, he looked over the short chain-link fence at the swing set. Even there he had a memory of her, this whole town was a memory, and everywhere he went he was haunted by her, he wanted so bad for the pain to go away, but couldn't bring himself to leave her… he couldn't bring himself to leave here… He walked into the park and gripped the chain of the swing. He pushed it for a minute before sitting down on it and pushing off with his boots. He swung low for a while before going a bit higher and then slowing down and sitting. He twisted the chain around and let himself spin remembering it as a smile crept onto his face… "_I want to play a game with you…" She sat on the swing to the right of him before getting up to face him. "Oh yeah? What is it?" He asked a hint of amusement dripping into his voice. "Here, hold onto the chains…" Jack put his pale hands on the warm chains and waited for further instructions. "Okay, now twist the chains around…" He did so a few times. "Now, you need to do more than that." She walked over to him and spun him around more. "Okay, now pull your feet off the ground." He did so and began spinning fast. When the swing finally halted she grabbed his arm and forced him to his feet. "Come on now you have to try and run! That's the best part!" He humored her, he started running, taking all of five steps he fell over, and then rolled onto his back, laughing the whole time as he fought off the urge to throw up into the grass. "All right, I did it; it's your turn now!" He remembered having to chase her down after regaining his balance, and dragging her to the swing to get her to do it. All in all, he made sure she didn't have the chain twisted as many times around as he had… _ He laughed a little before standing up, the snow crunching under his feet. His legs began to walk and control themselves as his mind drifted to other places… before he knew it, he was at his front porch. He looked to the left, not surprised to see his parents' car missing from the lot. "Not a big deal…" He spoke aloud. Jack unlocked the front door with his key, and let himself into the hollow walls he called home. Nothing really made this place feel cozy and warm, just cold. In his opinion there was too much space here, half the rooms in this house weren't in use. His parents master bedroom always was in perfect shape, the bed was made so that not a crinkle in the sheets was there, the carpet vacuumed and managed so it looked like you'd walk on snow if you stepped foot inside the door frame, their white wash walls and pillows made him feel like he was looking at a room in the local sanitarium rather than a normal couple's bedroom. But that was only to be expected when they were gone ninety percent of the time… When jack entered the house it brought him straight to the kitchen where lying on the spotless slate island lay a crisp white piece of paper,

'Jack,

We'll be gone for a few nights, left some cash on the computer desk if you need it.

Mom-Dad'

"Of course, what else is new?" He crumpled the perfect piece of paper into an imperfect white paper ball and threw it into the trash can as he walked by. He felt the need to drown his sorrow for the day, and knowing his parents weren't going to be home for more than a week considering they left over a grand on the computer desk, gave him the idea to drink. You'd not think it, but Jack was not a stranger to whiskey, was he able to keep it down very well. He took a bottle of his dad's liquor and walked to his bedroom. His dad would never know… hell he was never home long enough to remember what he had. When he got to his bedroom door he opened it to hear the familiar creak. He peered into the darkness, almost as though he feared an angry spirit may be waiting for him. He flicked on his light, removing his heavy coat and throwing it to the red comforter on his bed. He opened the whiskey bottle, and looked at some pictures he had tacked to a board on one of his black walls. Some were of her with him, some were of his parents, not many at all, and he had two of his first and last dog. He was a black lab, a big male he'd named Titan. Titan was only two when he died, too young to have gone the way he did… _Jack was outside with a big black lab playing fetch in the front yard. "Go on Titan, go get it!" He threw a neon green tennis ball for the dog. It landed and before he knew it Titan had it dropped right at his feet. "Good boy, you're getting good." He felt his phone vibrate before playing his ringtone; he pulled it out of his pocket. Seeing that it was his parents he figured he might as well see how they were doing on their latest trip. "Hello? Yeah fine, I'm outside with Titan… Ok, for what date? Hold on let me check the calendar…" His dad was on the phone, he patted his leg for Titan to come. He did, and Jack put him on a leash connected to a stake in the yard… He walked into the house and into his dad's study, still talking about a trip they had to plan now; Jack knew he'd be on the phone for a good half hour. Titan meanwhile had lain down in the grass, his blocky black head resting on big snowshoe sized paws. Then, his honey eyes made contact with his arch enemy, the stray tabby tom cat that lurked around, mooching off the merciful families that fed it. He lifted his head, eyes becoming more focused. The big tom moved closer, wrapping its snake like tail around the thin light post at the end of the driveway, mewling all the way. Titan by now had gotten to his paws, ready to chase the tom; he pulled a little on the thin line connecting him to the stake. The gray cat moved closer, now he laid down, rolling onto his back, putting his filthy scent onto the dog's land. Titan yanked a little harder, he felt the stake budge but barely. While the cat continued to taunt him, he yanked harder and harder until the stake finally came up and out of the soft earth. Titan went flying like a big black bullet, barking and slobbering as the cat caught sight of him. The tom got to his feet and flew down the driveway, his paws taking him anywhere to safety. Titan was gaining on him, just a little more, a couple more yards! The cat had, unknown to Titan crossed the big black pavement with lines known to civilization as the street. The dog wanting nothing more than to chew the cat up for a snack took his first step across the street. As he moved to the middle, a car came up the hill, and before anyone knew anything, Titan wasn't breathing anymore… _Jack touched the picture of that dog; he could almost feel that soft fur under his fingers. He opened the bottle of whiskey and took his first gulp, the burning on his tongue felt well, and when he swallowed it the sensation of drinking rubbing alcohol came over, it was a beautiful burning pain, that to some healed everything. Then he looked at a picture of her, it was at the park one day, the sun hitting her porcelain skin, and lighting up her unique orbs. Her tongue poked out from pink lips, barely containing laughter. He let out the first little chuckle of the day. "God, why? Why her? Why couldn't you have taken me instead?" Feeling like the room had become too bright for the dark occasion; he turned off the light again and decided to press himself against his door. Jack wrapped his arms around his knees and laid his pale forehead onto his kneecaps, where he began to gently sob. He would never cry in front of anyone anymore, he hated it, it made him feel small, made him feel inferior, weak… but on this day, when no one was around, he decided to sob. To let everything escape that had bottled up inside of him; he starts over every year on January 14th. That day will never be forgotten… _He was walking to her house that day; they always were together even more so in the summer than winter, but even the cold didn't keep them apart. Nothing could separate them… He was almost there, when he saw something awful. Police cars had come, and an ambulance had pulled in as well. He saw her parent's standing outside, but Blythe… Where was she? He ran the rest of the way… When he got closer the damage got worse, like some kind of horror movie, He saw a heap of metal one would not think to be a car, wrapped around a telephone pole, glass was strung everywhere like some twisted spider web, and… blood? Why was there blood around here if the car was over there? That's when he noticed the white sheet over what looked to be a body, the police had just covered it, a small blood trail was inching its way towards Jacks boot… 'God the body looked to be the size of… No, she went in the house probably, she's dark, and just as twisted as I am but she probably just didn't want to see this….' If only the thoughts of denial could make everything right… He looked down, the thin blood stream had just hit the tip of his boot, and he pulled it away quickly, and took a step back before looking over to the sheet again and walking towards her parents. "W-where's Bly?" He hadn't meant to sound so weak just then, so breakable… Blythe's mother, Tina looked him in his blood red eyes, with her own bloodshot grassy hues. "There's been a terrible, accident Jack…. Bly is-is-is…" Her last word kept repeating, hitting the frozen air and making him feel like he was going insane. Where was Bly? He needed to know that she was okay, and that his mind was being utterly ridiculous in thinking that she could possibly be not. Her mother's body went into a spasm of shaking and her knees buckled, she hit the winter pavement, her conversation with Jack long forgotten… "My baby is dead! Oh god, why?! Why!" Her conscious broke through; pulverizing thoughts of denial and making the grief and pain flow through like water through a broken dam. Jack looked at her father then with wide scared eyes, eyes of a child just then, who was feeling alone, frightened, and very confused. Her dad stared back with unfocused blue irises and dilated black pupils. Jacks feet began moving themselves. His heel finally came in contact with the hard curb, he tripped and fell and right there, and right then he sobbed uncontrollably, letting his own feelings show. 'It's not true, they have the wrong girl, they have to! She can't be gone she can't be de-dea-' His mind wouldn't let him think of that word right now… 'She's my best friend, my only friend, I Love her… Wait, I love her…. God I do, and I never got to tell her…' He cradled his head in his hands, elbows rested firmly on his knees for what seemed like hours. It was. He watched them put her body in a body bag, and take it away… He watched them use the Jaws of Life to rescue the man in the car wrapped around the telephone pole. He was drunk when he hit her going 86 miles per hour… he was put in an ambulance; Jack secretly hoped he'd die of internal injuries… He watched them pick up the spider web of broken glass some pieces hiding themselves in the snow, and wash her blood off the street. He looked down then, and noticed there was just a faint trace of blood on his boot, 'How the hell?' he remembered then… and felt sick… he got up then, feeling light headed from crying and had to steady himself, walked home, curled up into a ball in his bed, and wept, and slept for weeks slipping into a state of depression he didn't even think existed, he barely ate, and he hardly drank anything, no one saw him for a month. When Blythe died, you'd of thought Jack died right along with her… _He took another gulp of the burning liquid and looked up, the darkness felt like home to him now, the shadows in his bedroom looked like spirits, and they were watching him, mourning with him, maybe even pitying him. Fuck pity. He looked at the moon outside of the window, the white glow against the bleak snow seemed so pure, everything and everyone was innocent in winter, white of course was the color for that. He took a long swallow, and brought the bottle back down, the remaining contents inside sloshing inside the glass. It was just about gone, 'God already?' His thoughts brought him back again, 'I just opened this bottle… Two hours ago…' Time flies when you're thinking of the past. He tipped the bottle back, and with a last swallow, the whiskey was gone. He sat there for a moment, one more tear made its way to his eye, it trailed down his face, over the smudged eyeliner, and pulled it, like a dark line down his cheek. That dark drop lingered on his chin for a moment before dropping onto his bare arm. It stained there, an impurity on his white skin. He ran his long fingers through his scarlet hair, before standing. Using the wall for support he got his legs back under him. He turned to the left to see his mirror, to see blood red locks, and bloodshot eyes staring back at him… 'I don't want to be seen!' The empty bottle was hurled at the mirror, it shattered, along with the whiskey bottle, a sharp cracking and shatter was heard then the pieces of glass were strung about his gray carpet, like an ocean of sharp see through waves. He pinched the bridge of his nose and hid his eyes for just a minute before looking back up. He noticed it then, hooked into the mirror's edge was a single piece of glass. He walked up to the mirror, hearing pieces of ocean crunching under his boots. He touched that piece of glass before realizing it was heart shaped, a smile was brought to his lips… _"Do you see that piece of land over there?" Bly pointed to a huge field, devoid of anything but grass. "Yeah, what about it? What's there?" She turned her gaze on him; he could already see it, a mischievous grin in those eyes he saw often… "Well you see, there used to be a lake over there, way before you moved here, we used to swim in it, fish in it, hell we'd even canoe in it… Well one November, this giant flock of ducks came, and landed smack in the middle of that lake. Then, the temperature dropped so fast the damn water froze solid right then and there!" He had already decided to humor her, and go along with it… "So what happened to the ducks? Did they die?" He asked. "No, they all started flapping their wings, and flew off, taking that lake with them, now they say that lake is somewhere over in the next town, miles and miles away!" She started laughing and fell backwards from her sitting position. Landing on her back, she giggled and laughed as he finally joined her, he just never could resist laughing with her, or smiling, her personality was contagious… _He traced his fingers over the jagged heart shape in front of his face. He looked down, and saw the perfect piece of ocean to use. He plucked a long sharp piece of glass from the thousands on his floor, and brought it to eye level. He traced over his palm with it, before digging the see through object into the soft, pale flesh. Watching the blood seep to the surface made him remember that he was alive… he wiped the blood from his palm onto the heart shaped glass, coloring it a dark scarlet the color of his eyes. Just then he felt such an overwhelming sense of warmth, and a pair of arms wrap around his waist… "I love you Jack…" a voice from the past hit the air like a melody long forgotten, and almost made fresh tears sting his eyes… "I love you to Bly… more than you'll ever know…" He stood there with her for the longest time, while crimson blood seeped from his hand and stained the clear ocean red below them… 


End file.
